Page 5 of Resurgent
“Kenzie, mind grabbing me a beer?” Liam interrupted.
“Sure. You have time for one Chaz?”
“No. I really have to go. See you tomorrow.”
I almost made it out the front door before Liam’s hand pushed it closed, his palm pressing against it to keep me from leaving.
“I was going to call you tomorrow.” His voice was quiet, so McKenzie couldn’t hear him from the kitchen. “I want to explain—”
I cut him off. “There’s nothing to explain. I mean, it’s nice to see you and all, but what we had was just a vacation fling. It’s not like it meant anything! No follow-up necessary.”
He looked confused, even a little hurt, and I realized a guy like Liam probably wasn’t used to girls not falling at his feet. “Really? You didn’t think it meant anything?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laughed, hoping it sounded convincing. “Neither of us is looking for anything serious. You’re a Navy SEAL.” I shrugged, as if that explained everything. “And I’m not looking for a boyfriend. It’s not personal. I just don’t believe in relationships.”
“You’re a wedding planner,” he argued, his lips curving up at the ludicrousness of my statement. Ironic, yes, but 100 percent true. I’d learned the hard way from watching my mother that falling for a man just made you vulnerable. I took care of myself and was careful to never get emotionally invested. At least until that night in Mexico, when Liam had turned everything I believed on its end and, for the first time ever, made me question whether it might be worth the chance.
“Look, I’ve got to go. Good luck in Pakistan. See you later, Prescott.”
I’d left and hadn’t heard from him again. Two months later, he was dead.
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. Liam is gone. I need to quit thinking about him—and that night. I learned at a young age that wishing things were different doesn’t change anything.I just need to stick with the plan I laid out when I was sixteen and focus onwork and keeping my life just the way I like it—tidy, organized, and uncomplicated.
I head into McKenzie’s room to get what I came for. Wow. McKenzie’s bedroom is worse than the living room. It looks like it’s been ransacked, with every drawer open and clothes haphazardly strewn everywhere. She must have been in a hurry when she packed for the Philippines. As much as my fingers itch to sort out the mess, I realize that’s probably overstepping my bounds, even with my best friend. I’m just here to look for Liam’s passport.
Gemma said McKenzie put away his personal effects to go through when she was more emotionally ready, but Gemma didn’t know where they might be. I survey the messy room, methodically planning my attack. Putting Liam firmly out of my mind, I throw myself into the task of finding his personal effects. I dig through the open drawers first, but there’s nothing in them but clothes. I move to her closet, which is as much of a wreck as the rest of her room, but I still don’t find anything. Then I remember the waffles.
I touch the intricately carved silver necklace in my pocket that Liam was wearing just before he died. He gave it to the aid worker whose life he saved to give to McKenzie, and she’d put it in the waffle box in the freezer where she keeps all her jewelry. (I may be the organized one, but McKenzie is the neurotic one.)
She’d showed it to me shortly after Liam died, and a few weeks later, I’d asked her if I could borrow it while she was gone, saying it would be perfect to wear for a wedding expo I was going to. I couldn’t tell her the truth—that I wanted that one last link to Liam. I hadn’t told McKenzie, or anyone for that matter, what had happened between Liam and me that night in Playa. At first, because it had seemed sacred somehow, and part of me wanted to hold the memories close, as if giving voice to them would make them vanish like a puff of smoke. And then later, it didn’t matter. It hadn’t been anything significant. Except to me.
I hadn’t worn the necklace, but I’d slept with it every night, clutching it next to my skin as I fell asleep, wishing it was him. Even when Walker asked me for it a few days ago, I lied and said I couldn’t find it. I know it’s ridiculous, but I don’t want to lose my last tangible tie to Liam.
Thinking I might find Liam’s personal effects in the same place, I go into the kitchen and pull the waffle box out of the freezer. There’s nothing in it but the palmful of jewelry that belonged to McKenzie’s mom—a strand of pearls, some diamond earrings, a simple gold wedding band, and a diamond solitaire surrounded by smaller diamonds—and I resolutely add the necklace to the rest of the jewelry, wrapping it carefully before putting it back in the box and returning it to the freezer. It’s time to put Liam out of my mind—and my heart—forever.
I glance at my watch. It’s eight o’clock here, which means it’s also eight o’clock in Malaysia, but in the morning. Maybe I can catch McKenzie by phone. It rings and rings before going to her voicemail.
“Hey Kenzie. I’m at your apartment looking for Liam’s passport for Walker, but I can’t find the box of his stuff. I thought I’d see if I could talk to you, but I guess you’re out having adventures. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Text or call me when you get this message. If I don’t answer, I’ve probably been swallowed whole by your room,” I joke before hanging up.
Would she have hidden it? Probably not. When she’d been given his things, no one knew there were missing guns or that someone would be trying to find them. She hasn’t been back home since then. I go back into her room, trying to think like McKenzie. If anyone can, it’s me. We’ve been best friends since we were thrown together as roommates our freshman year at Wake Forest, and no one knows her better than I do. We’ve shared everything, and I know her demons and secrets just like she knows mine. Well, except for one.
Maybe if I can remember some of the stories she told me about Liam, I’ll be able to figure out where she put his things. I’d always been envious of her relationship with her brother. They were friends as well as siblings, and her stories of how he always got her into trouble made me laugh, especially since Kenzie is about as mischievous as a nun. The only time she ever did anything devious was when he’d finally worked up the nerve to buy a box of condoms, she stole them and hid them in a tampon box.
That’s it!
I practically run to her bathroom, opening cabinets and rummaging through drawers until I find what I’m looking for. There it is, a box of Playtex tampons—the giant megapack like you get from Costco—shoved in a corner under the sink. Just maybe…
Yes! Next to a few actual wrapped tampons are Liam’s personal effects. Sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor, I pull them out one by one. They’re everyday things except for the vicious-looking, black-handled pocket knife—earbuds, a bobby pin, car keys, a small medical kit, a leather wallet filled with a few credit cards and two hundred dollars in cash, his driver’s license, a small flashlight, a power bar, and a blue passport. The only thing missing is his watch and his cellphone, which must have been on his body during the explosion or lost somewhere along the way.
At least I got what I came for. I wonder if Gemma and Walker are right. Curious, I open his passport, and my heart stutters a little at the sight of his handsome face grinning at me from the picture, as if we’re in on a shared joke. Tall and broad-shouldered with tousled short blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a clean-shaven, chiseled jawline, he could easily have been a movie star if he hadn’t become a SEAL.
I quickly turn the page, thumbing through the small booklet. There are pages and pages of foreign stamps—he’s been to every continent except Antarctica, most of them more than once. Thinking about what Gemma said Walker’s looking for, I concentrate on the stamps from the last six months. There’s Mexico, where we all went last fall, Malaysia, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and the U.S. Hopefully this will help Walker, although I don’t know how. At the back is a folded piece of paper that I open carefully, my heart starting to beat faster for some reason. It’s his bucket list. He must have had two copies of it, since I know McKenzie has what she thought was the original that she’s used as a roadmap for her adventures. I read over it, wondering if they’re the same list. I’ll have to ask McKenzie.
Knowing Walker will be interested in it, too, I put the list back in the small blue booklet and tuck the passport into the back pocket of my jeans. I’m putting everything back into the tampon box when I see something else at the bottom of the box. It’s a black bandanna, and I unfold it carefully. The scent of Liam permeates the air like a sexy ghost—that spicy, forbidden masculine smell of his that makes me think of dark pirates and stolen kisses. I hold it to my nose and inhale deeply, and for a moment, I’m transported back to that night in Playa del Carmen, the nearness of him overwhelming my senses, my cheek pressed to his hard chest, his strong arms wrapped around me.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until a big fat tear plops onto my lap. Another tear follows, and then another, until I’m sobbing—great, heaving shudders racking my body and making my shoulders shake. I don’t cry easily; tears don’t really solve anything. And I haven’t cried for Liam until now—not when I left McKenzie’s apartment after seeing him again, or when she told me he’d been killed, or at his memorial service—but now the dam has burst, I can’t stop the flood.
I don’t know how long I sit there, my pain and heartbreak flowing out of me along with the tears like blood from a wound. When I have no tears left, only shuddering hiccups, it’s dark outside. Feeling numb, I methodically refold the bandana and place it back in the box, then put the box back under the sink.
